The Blue Danube
My daughter mentioned that people don’t always get her right away, which reminded me of someone who really did.
(I wrote this a handful of years back, and was reminded of it again tonight, after chatting with my daughters. Saving it here as it’s likely the right home for it. In memory of Sarah Sabia.)
Sarah was the first teacher Micah really connected with.
She carried herself with empathy and patience, intelligence and humor, and she seemed always to be abnormally present and kind.
One day I walked into the Blue Danube Cafe, and she was there writing in her notebook and looked very serious and deep in thought.
Something was up.
I didn’t interrupt her -- I wasn’t having a great day either -- you never know what’s really going on in someone’s life.
When the coronavirus began, Sarah -- who hadn’t taught Micah in over a year -- created remote Zoom classes for them to play and learn together.
It seemed incredibly thoughtful, kind and generous.
Micah loved it.
It was a gesture very few would make.
Sarah was one of the few genuinely likable people I’ve met in San Francisco.
She passed away last week from stage IV cancer, and will be missed.
I wasn't sure how Micah would handle the news.
She's asked many thoughtful questions, and seems okay.
May angels lead you in.